So Much More
by Eric Draven201
Summary: Lady begins to see what kind of person Dante really is. Rated for themes of domestic violence and language. Slight DXL. ONESHOT.


**AN:** Just some practice stuff. This one was kinda inspired by the VERY heavy rains of these past weeks. It really did look like the second coming of the flood for a while. Anyways, I hope you like it.

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So Much More

BRINNNNNG! BBBRRRRINNNNG! An old, dinosaur of a phone called out, breaking the stillness of the night. He had hoped to finally get some much needed rest tonight. _So much for that. _After a forty-eight hour long mission, who wouldn't?

BRRRIIIING! He groped through the darkness for the receiver. Before even picking up the phone, he contemplated giving the bastard on the other end a piece of his mind. _Don't you know what time it is?!_ CLICK. He let out a roar of a yawn before saying in a sleep laden voice, "Hello?"

"Hello? Dante? Is that you?"

"Lady?" His tiredness and any rude comments he had stored up melted away at the distress in her voice.

"Dante… look, I'm sorry for calling so late, but –" Her voice trailed off as she tried her best to remain calm. He knew she was calling for help and it had become a sad routine between the two.

"I had no one else to turned to," her voice wary. Inwardly she was kicking herself for relying on him so much. It didn't make any sense. She could hold her own against demons, but she needed _him _to be her rock in the simplest of situations.

"Okay… umm… where are you?"

"I'm at a payphone near the old Price Street bridge."

"I'll be there in ten minutes…" he made an attempt to look outside but only saw heavy sheets of rain pattering on the window panes. "Try to stay dry," he added before hanging up.

Dante ran up the metal grated stairs and returned in a few moments dressed in the only thing that wasn't covered in blood or demonic filth, which was a set of gray sweat pants, sweat shirt and pair of slide-in flip flops, with his feet encased in white cotton socks. There was no time to primp and groom, not that he cared at the moment. He equipped himself with his pistols. _Never leave home without them. _He tucked Ebony in the back of his pants and held onto Ivory as he searched for some car keys in his top desk drawer. Success! ...Well sort of. He found _some_ car keys, but not the ones he was hunting for. These set of keys hung from a Hello Kitty key chain and went to the black Chevrolet Impala out front. It was no matter; he collected the keys and left for the car.

_Hope Trish doesn't mind_. Trish went out of town to "find herself." She took his bike, so her car was a fair trade. He hopped into the sedan, tucked Ivory under the seat and took off.

Within moments he was pulling up next to Lady, who was shivering under the shelter of the old stone bridge. Dante exited the car and walked up the Lady. She was drenched from head to toe. At her feet was as a small gym bag filled with the little possessions she could grasp at the moment. They embraced briefly, despite her being soaked. Dante pulled off his sweat shirt, with his white tank wife beater sticking slightly to the inside. His pulling revealed a little more of his perfectly chiseled abs.

He slipped the sweat shirt onto Lady. "Dante, you don't have to –" He said nothing, only his gentle rubbing on her shoulder and arms to warm her, cut off her protest. He tilted her face up towards him and examined it under the street light's glow, "He hit you again, didn't he?" Her face was otherwise fine, except the faint bluish bruise under her left eye. He was sure there was more elsewhere.

Dante ushered her and carried the small bag to the car. Both entered the car and rode off into rain-slicked night. The car was deathly quiet. Lady broke the silence. "So, is this Trish's car," Lady asked pointing out the Hello Kitty keychain and the copious amount of plush animals in the backseat.

"Yep."

"It's nice." The car sunk back into an awkward silence.

Lady noticed that Dante wasn't speeding through the streets like a mad man on a mission, he calmly drove on. Lady glanced at the clock on the car radio. It read '3:45.' She noticed the dark circle under his eyes; how long has it been since he slept? A wave of guilt washed over her. _I'm the reason he's out so late. He looks so tired and it's all my fault. _Lady took note of the stubbles on his chin and jaw line and that he was dressed in something normal, sweatpants. That and his disheveled platinum hair reminded her of a college student that couldn't be bothered with grooming. He was unkempt… in a cute way.

The whole scene still bothered her a bit in the back of her mind. It reminded her of one of those Lifetime movies where a girl sneaks out to be with a boyfriend who turns out to be a creep. Worst of all she was _that_ girl who had to ask her friend, who was more like a brother, to bail her out. What disturbed her most of all was that Dante was this 'brother-like' figure. Over the years, her views about him changed. A friend became almost a lustful object of affection and then so much more. Was she falling in love?

She was scared and went running for the hills into the arms of the first jerk she met. Why couldn't she see that she had perfection right in front of her?

His jaw stretched to let out a yawn. "Just say the word and I'll deal with him," Dante finally said. Why couldn't she see that he was her knight in shinning armor?

"No," she said, "I can take care of him… but… thanks."

"Who said I'm doing it for you," he half joked, "That bastard's cutting into my sleep." Why does she refuse to give in?

Lady's ruby lips formed into a smile and Dante glanced over and said, "Now, that's better."

Moments later they were back at Devil May Cry. Dante deftly maneuvered the car in a perfect parallel park. The rains had slowed to a drizzle as they stepped out the car. Dante fiddled with his keys for a moment before unlocking the door, allowing Lady in first.

He put the bag on the desk and put his guns away. "Some of your things are upstairs," his voice oozing with the monotony of a set routine, "You can use my bed. It has fresh linens on it. If you can't find any clothes, feel free to use whatever from Trish's or my room. Help yourself to whatever's in the 'fridge."

"Thanks," was all she could muster. Another hearty yawn left his mouth as he plopped down on his second-hand couch, "That's what I'm here for."

She grabbed her bag went upstairs to a much needed shower. Once inside the safety of the bathroom, she peeled off her soggy clothes while trying not to irritate the bruises on her back and arms.

She stepped into the steamy shower. Boy, how good that hot water felt against her cold skin. Tucked in the corner of the tub, sat a stainless steel caddy that held her rose-scented body wash. _So he still hadn't thrown it out._ At any rate, she was grateful that he didn't forget about her. Some ten minutes later, the soap suds swirled in the drain and she was back on the tiled floor, drying off. She dressed for bed and walked to Dante's room.

Just he said earlier, the mattress was dressed in clean bed linens. She sat there, in her very large night shirt, sweeping her hand across the pristine sheets. They held the strange but appealing scents of both fabric softener and Dante's own musk, as if he were present in the room. _Dante_. Where is he? She walked back down the hall and down to the middle landing of the stairs. He was still there on the couch in the same position, half lying and half sitting with his head cradled by the sofa's arm. She went to his room and returned with a spare blanket.

He was asleep. She could tell by his slow, even breathing. Fair eyelashes fluttered indicating that he was dreaming. He looked so serene in his deep sleep. Lady felt that she could stay here and drink him in all night. Alas, she was tired too. She spread the blanket across his body and continued onto bed.

Some hours later the sunlight crept through the slats of the blinds, spilling on the floor and her face. Lady scrunched her face up in protest of the bright lights. She tried to drift back into her dreams, but simply couldn't. Lady decided to make the best out the fact that she could not get back to sleep and make things up to Dante. Knowing him, he'd still be asleep… right?

She made her way down the stairs and announced, "Hey, Dante I'm gonna make some breakfast. How about some pancakes with strawberry syrup?" There was no answer from the couch where she left him. _Guess he's still asleep. I don't blame him; he looked so tired when he picked me up._ She walked into the kitchen, bare feet chilled on the bare tiles. She stepped closer to see a post-it note attached to the refrigerator. It read: Went out for a walk. See you later, Dante. P.S. Thanks for the blanket.

A smile played at her ruby red lips as her gazed swept from the note to the refrigerator door handle. She opened it to her surprised to see it fully stocked with food and no evidence of old take out. Lady had arrived at the thought that he had finally grown up, that he simple can't live on just pizza forever. Or was this all just for her? Had he anticipated another incident that would bring her back to his doorstep? She frowned a little at the thought of him inside her head. Dante was famous for that, somehow he just knew what to say… or do to get you to love or hate him. He knew how to get under her skin.

Suddenly she wasn't so hungry and he wasn't there to cook for; so she settled on making herself some tea. She sat at his desk that centered the room. For quite some time she sat hovering over the tea that at the moment, she couldn't bring herself to sip. All she could think of was that jerk who dared to call himself her boyfriend; the bastard who hit her, who dared to call himself a man.

Dante, still dressed in his sweats, found himself standing in front of a high rise apartment complex. It was the building that Lady had moved into months ago. He remembered her so-called boyfriend and how fast things seemed to move. She met a guy and she seemed so happy, for a while anyways. But really, he remembered what he said that sent her running. Three words were all he said, "I love you." Funny how those words doomed many a relationship.

Dante shook off the thoughts. He watched someone get buzzed into the building and he made his move to slip in with them. We made his way across the ornate, marbled lobby filled with leather furniture and into an elevator. He rode the elevator alone up to the tenth floor. Dante then snaked his way through the burgundy carpeted hallways until he found himself in front of the door numbered 1025.

He casually knocked at the door. No answer. Again, this time more forcefully. The door slowly creaked opened, just like in the horror movies. "Hello? Anybody home," Dante said while peeking his head into the darkened apartment. He cautiously stepped in, looking about the area. All was quiet. All was eerie. _Maybe he left and forgot to shut his do—_, Dante's thoughts we cut off just in time to dodge the aluminum baseball bat that was hurtling through the air towards his face!

Dante barely glimpsed it out of the corner of his eye. He rolled out of the way and faced the culprit. "What the hell was that for?!" The man didn't answer; he only lunged forward and raised his arm in order to strike with the bat again. Dante caught the man by the wrist this time and said, "Dude, look... The door was already open. I just wanted to –" Reasoning didn't help this time either. It only managed to get Dante hit in the head.

Luckily, no blood was drawn. The blow to the head only served to piss off Dante further. He shoved the man hard enough to cause him to tumble backwards. "Okay... _Mike_... I came to get Lady's stuff... so why don't you stay out of my way, huh?" Dante pulled himself up to his feet and began to walk down to the room he was sure that this guy and Lady once shared.

Dante had only met Mike briefly before, but he remembered him. Mike was about 6'4" only slightly taller than Dante, but he had a bodybuilder's physique that was honed as a result of his job as a personal trainer. In a side by side comparison, Mike looked like he could give Dante the beat down of his life.

He reached the bedroom and riffled through the closet looking for some type of bag to store what he could grab. "You're that asshole she's always sneaking off to see," Mike said from just outside the doorway.

"Just leave her alone, okay," Dante said as he continued to pack Lady's things, "What kind of man beats up on girls anyways?"

"What?!"

"You heard me. You come near her again, I swear... I'll kill you," the latter came out in a sinister voice as Dante let his inner devil slip out a bit.

"Look, she stays with me! Who else would want her anyways? She all scared up, damaged goods, buddy. She's lucky to have me, let alone any other man."

At Mike's words, Dante tossed the bag onto the bed and turned to face the muscle-head while betraying no emotion. He made a promise to Lady about keeping his temper in check... but NO ONE makes fun of her. Dante was fed up with Mike's attitude. "It seems like you were itching for a fight ever since the first time you met me. Eh, _Mikey?_"

"Wouldn't want to mess you up. How much do you weigh, a buck eighty?"

"Enough to fuck you up."

Mike took the bait and hopped at the chance to throw the first punch. Dante saw it coming and caught it in mid-air, wrapping his one hand around the man's beefy fist. "All those steroids and you still hit like a girl." Dante shoved Mike's arm back. He half-crouched and waved his arms back, taunting the bodybuilder like a matador to a bull saying, "Bring it on, Mikey!"

Again, the angered man made a charge for the ivory-haired devil hunter only to be deflected into a wall. When Dante finally went on the offensive, he made sure hold back as much strength as possible. He stepped in to deliver a swift blow to Mike's solar plexus. "How 'bout them apples, asshole!"

The man slumped to the ground, coughing and pissing himself. Dante went back to gathering Lady's things. When finished sweeping through the drawers, he noticed that the man was no longer lying in the door gasping for air, but just a wet spot in his place. _He must have taken off the call the cops._ Dante grabbed the bag and bounded for the front door. As soon as he rounded the final corner, Mike caught Dante with a blow to the abdomen. It was unlike anything that belonged to previous scuffles, the pain was sharp. Dante looked to see that there was a knife buried into his gut and that he was bleeding. It wasn't nearly as bad anything he endured in battle, but it was quite annoying.

The bastard actually brought a weapon into the equation, and by the looks of it, a kitchen knife at that! Mike was surprised to see Dante's lack of a reaction to the injury inflicted. Dante pushed the man away and pulled the knife out. He then threw it into a nearby wall, hard enough that only the handle was left sticking out.

A visibly upset Dante grabbed Mike by the neck and hoisted the man up the same wall more than a foot off the floor. "Aren't you gonna apologize for stabbing me?" Dante loosened his grip enough to allow the man to answer.

"S-s-sorry."

"You are not to go near her ever again. Do you understand?" Dante's voice was calm and even, but his eyes glowed in an angry shade of crimson. The frightened bodybuilder only nodded. "Good," Dante said dropping the man flat on his ass. _Should I do it, _Dante thought to himself, _it could keep a lot of women safe when I'm not looking._

Dante picked up the bag again and began mumbling words of a forgotten language to himself. Mike at this point became even more scared when he watched his hands faintly glow and return to its normal complexion. "Wha- What's happening?"

"Call it an insurance policy," Dante said over his shoulder before leaving the apartment.

By now, Lady had already showered and dressed. It was already past noon and Dante wasn't back yet and she was beginning to worry. For now, she was nursing her fifth cup of tea which had already grown cold. All she could do was stare at her reflection in the clear, russet liquid.

Lady's head snapped up when she heard a car pull up outside. Sure enough it was Dante entering the shop. "Good morning, Lady," he said handing her the bag and crossing the room to the kitchen.

"Morning? Don't you mean afternoon, Dante? Where were you," Lady shouted around the corner.

"Out," he simply said as he returned with two bottles of Corona. He set one in front of Lady and took a swig from his. She unzipped the bag to find more of her belongings. "Dante, how did you – Thank you."

"No probs. And..." Dante reached in the small of his back and pulled an odd-looking, German pistol "I had no idea that you kept a Luger in your panty drawer." He teased her a bit more, as he dangled it in front of himself.

"Hey... give me that! So, what did you do?"

"Nothing."

"That doesn't look like '_nothing'_," Lady said skeptically as she pointed out the blood stains and tear on his shirt.

"Your boyfriend and I got into a little altercation. I had to make him see my point of view. So, let's just say that that he won't be able to lay a hand on another woman." Lady let out a small gasp. "Oh, com'on... give me a _little_ credit! It's not like I killed him or anything. It-was-only-a-little-demon-magic," He grinned and jumbled out the last bit as quickly as he could, hoping that she would not catch it.

"Demon magic?!"

"It was only a small spell so, he can't hit anyone else."

Lady had also made him promise not to use his demonic lineage against humans, but how could she stay furious? She could see that his heart was in the right place, that he only wanted to protect her from cowards like Mike.

Now, she could see what she has before her, one had been with her through thick and thin and will continue to do so; sitting before her was so much more. Lady got up and planted a soft kiss on his lips and said, "Thank you." She left him there, slightly stunned. Nothing else was said. Lady stood at the top of the stairs, blew a kiss and made her exit.

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Okay, it's retarded and I know that it's very OOC for Lady... but – Like it? Hate it? Drop a line.


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